Law, Susan Kay by Traitorous Hearts Read Free Book Online

compelled to dig
beneath the obvious; it was one of the things that had led him to his job in
the first place. He wanted—too much—to strip away a few of her layers.
    Intense concentration puckered her forehead as she played, stray
golden curls bobbed wildly around her head, and, Lord, did she have legs. He
was suddenly sure why women were supposed to hide underneath skirts: the sight
of legs like hers could cause a man to do stupid things. Her calves were
smoothly molded; he felt sure they would be delightfully firm to his touch, and
her thighs were womanly. Her limbs were incredibly long; it would take a man
several deliriously happy days to kiss his way up their length.
    His job did not allow extended, serious involvement with women. It
had never mattered to him before—but now he hated it. He could care about her,
but there was no time, no way to let himself get to know her, no way at all to
let her get close to him.
    It was simply too dangerous. He came too close to slipping when
she was near, his concentration broken by the distraction of her mere presence.
He couldn't afford to make any mistakes now; too many lives depended on it,
including his own.
    Yet he couldn't seem to stay away from her. She drew him in a way
that was both completely unexpected and wholly irresistible. He wanted her to
know what was beneath his act, an act he'd lived for so long even he was unsure
what she'd find beneath the surface—if there was anything left.
    Frustrated, Jon tore his gaze away from her, looking up through
the black, skeletal boughs of the tree at the pale blue sky, and listened. Her
music was nothing like any he had ever heard before; it was fluid, changeable,
easy, mimicking the gliding soar of a hawk, then the quiet, meandering flow of
a stream. It shifted again, becoming slow, subtle, intense, a fierce, beating
undercurrent of passion.
    He had to leave before it was too late....
    It already was. Jon closed his eyes and let the music flow through
him.

CHAPTER 4
    Holding her skirtshigh above her ankles, Bennie made a
small leap over the puddle of icy water as she skirted the New Wexford Common.
Last night's rain had left the low areas wet and muddy, although the distant
sun was doing a fair job of drying out the high spots. After all the residents
of four villages had tromped through the common for the mustering, the place
was going to be a black, sloppy mess.
    Well, at least somebody liked it; a half dozen hogs were squealing
happily, rooting and snorting in the hollow next to the schoolhouse. The pigs
ran free in the town, earning their keep by devouring all sorts of garbage and
waste, but in wet weather they could always be found here, burying themselves
in the abundant mud.
    "Watch out!"
    "Get it before it ends up in the hollow!"
    A blown-up pig's bladder rolled toward her, followed by four
puffing, red-faced boys. Bennie stuck out her foot to stop it, giving it a
sharp kick in the direction of Adam, her oldest nephew.
    "Hey, thanks, Bennie. I didn't want to have to go in after
it."
    She reached out and ruffled his blond hair. Although he was only
ten, his head already nearly reached her chin. "If I were you, I'd choose
a little less crowded place to play football. You know Rufus thinks the game is
a menace."
    "Yeah, well." Adam tossed the ball from hand to hand.
"Father said we should go off behind the school to play. But Ma's making
gingerbread, an' it's almost ready, an' you know if Father gets there
first he'll eat the whole thing, an'—"
    "And nothing, Adam. If you charge into someone and bump them
over while you're playing, you're not going to get any at gingerbread at all.
Besides, your father will be too busy today to eat any gingerbread."
    "Oh, sure," he grumbled, his eyes wide with complete
disbelief.
    Bennie laughed. "All right, maybe he'll find a bit of time.
But he won't get more than half of it, I'm certain. Now you all go off and play
and I'll make sure someone comes to get you when it's time to